


Not quite dead, Maybe just comatose

by MediocreHuman



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Codependency, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-War, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 22:57:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13351263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreHuman/pseuds/MediocreHuman
Summary: Hughes Death hits everyone hard. Particularly his best friend Colonel Roy Mustang.This is just a short story about how Mustang tries to deal and Hawkeye ends up having to pick up the pieces.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by another fic that I can't actually find so whoops. I'll give them credit if I ever find them again
> 
> * Found it, https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11534819/1/Marching-On <\-- author is also on ao3 but this particular story was not transferred

“You said you were going to work under me and support me...What’s the point if you surpassed my rank?” Roy glanced down at the cold stone in front of him. It seemed pitifully small. The same as all the rest, easily forgotten. It was all so _wrong_.

Beside him stood his lieutenant, a solid pillar of unwavering loyalty. Despite her silence he had known her long enough to recognize the silent question in the air. In response he simply mumbled something about what terrible creatures alchemists were, his dead tone barely giving way to the pure self-loathing he was feeling at that moment. Terrible creäture indeed.

Still, having her around was a comfort in and of itself. Something about his lieutenant always made him feel like he needed to confess, like maybe if he spilled his regrets out to someone he could wash away the sins that had taken up permanent residency in his soul. It never worked.

“Are you alright?” Of course, that was her response. His best friend, his anchor, the person who had forcibly dragged him from the edge more times than he could count, was gone. A small part of him wanted to yell and scream to the world how unfair it was, his mind frantically working at equations that wouldn’t work, all you had to do was look towards his subordinate Fullmetal for proof. Another sin to stain his already blackened soul.

If Hughes were here he’d be pissed. Beyond pissed. That cheerful voice that always seemed to stay calm even in the deadliest of situations would rise because “I swear to God Roy one day your lack of self-worth is going to get you killed and we’ll be dragged down with you because that's what we promised didn’t we?”. Hughes who had a life, and a caring wife and daughter he loved more than anything in the world. Hughes who would come by his office on his worst days, sometimes silent, sometimes joining in his drinking, sometimes dragging him out and away from the ghosts who had haunted him for years, whispering poisonous things in his ear.  But not anymore. Because he wouldn’t be coming back and the job of making sure he didn’t completely self-destruct lay solely on Hawkeye’s shoulders. It wasn’t fair. To any of them.

He never wanted to burden her yet here he was. Standing beside him, ever loyal. He dragged her to the pits of hell yet she remained. Sometimes he wished she wouldn’t. He didn’t dare look up at her. As selfish as it was he didn’t think he could stand the guilt of looking into her ever-stoic face, knowing it was his fault, that he had failed his friends once again. He deserved it.

“Yeah” He paused for a moment to place his military assigned cap over his head. He knew from this angle the visor would hide his eyes. “It looks like it’s beginning to rain” She looked around in confusion.

   “No I don’t think so-” Once look at his face and she went silent. To think, after years of begging from Hughes to just let himself feel something, to talk to him, to just break down and cry just once because lord knows they’ve been through enough shit, it would be at his gravesite that he finally broke down.

   “No, it’s raining”

   “You’re right. Let’s go back.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy is grieving but at least he's improving right? At least he's not drinking.

Riza Hawkeye was a smart woman. Not only was she one of the best sharpshooters in the military, she had the brains to match. Alchemy might fly over her head, to the sorrow of her late father, but she was by no means stupid. None of the men in her unit were. Despite Roy’s angry growls of “I’m fine”, at this point, even Fullmetal, in all his childish glory would have noticed Mustang was falling apart at the seams. It was a good thing he was with his teacher and not in central. The boy looked up to Roy despite both of their protests. Once he and his brother get word of Hughes death, they’ll be devastated. Ed and Al, specifically Ed though, would need some form of guidance and support and in this state, Roy would be useless.

Hawkeye quickly snapped herself out of her stupor, mentally shaking her head. Enough of that. She had enough to worry about, what with babysitting the colonel. No need to add more to the plate. The boys had survived this long, they’d be fine. As Roy once said, Ed had a fire in his eyes. He wouldn’t give up. The same couldn’t be said about the Colonel. Sometimes it felt like the brighter Roy’s flames got, the dimmer his eyes became.

From the corner of her eye, she carefully studied the man she had come to see as both a boss and a good friend. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and every time he moved his head he seemed to wince. A few hours ago he had snapped at the unit to go have lunch and to shut the light off behind them. The others had commented on this but shrugged it off, assuming the man just wanted to take a nap. Hawkeye silently disagreed. She had seen him shrinking away from the light the same way he did every time he was hungover. She instructed the others to go on ahead while she finished up some paperwork. Breda raised an eyebrow and Fuery shot her a worried look but Havoc dragged them both away, shooting Hawkeye a pointed look before turning to the others and whining about needing food and a smoke break. She shook her head at their retreating figures. It was nice to know they cared about their boss. If only Roy could let go of his guilt long enough to see.

“Mustang?” She hid her internal wince as even the sound of her gentle knocking seemed to cause him pain. She sighed and made her way across the room. “You really shouldn’t come to work hungover-”

“I’M NOT HUNGOVER!” She reeled back in surprise. He glared at her for a moment before the anger melted from his features leaving only guilt and despair. “I...I’m not hungover. I’m not drunk.” He scanned her face for the disbelief he knew he’d find there. “I swear on my life, I’m not, I’m clean I promise. Please, you have to believe me, I would never... I couldn’t- I’ve failed him so many times I can’t fail _him_ again, please believe me I-.” Hopeless eyes stared into her soul. And in that moment she knew. The tremors, the headaches, even insomnia, it wasn’t because he was drinking. It was because he wasn’t drinking. On a normal day, the thought of Roy finally giving up his habit of drowning his sorrows every night would have made her ecstatic. Now she could barely keep her famously stoic look on her face. Not because she wanted to smile, but instead to keep her face from falling.

“You want to get clean for Hughes.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He nodded.

“Hughes wanted me to get clean for so long. He tried so hard yet my stupid _ass-_ ” Roy took a breath and tried to quell the self-hatred rising in him. His speech lost the passion it had before and returned to the quiet monotone that he had taken to using since the funeral. “I was too weak. But I’m not going to dishonor his memory anymore. I refuse to burden him- hell, I refuse to burden any of you anymore. I’ll stop being... _useless_ ” The word was spat out like a curse. Perhaps it was. That word, which followed him around like a curse.

Useless child. Useless brat. He tried to please them. He learned fire alchemy, one of the hardest, most dangerous forms of alchemy, an art that would forever be lost once he died, unless some fool tried to recreate it. Fire Alchemy. All it took was some water and he would be helpless. Useless corporal, useless leader, couldn’t even protect his best friend.  Useless. A failure in all the worst ways. The only time he had ever succeeded...was the fucking war. The only thing he has ever be good at was destroying lives.

Roy Mustang. The Flame Alchemist. The “Hero of the Ishval”. He didn’t feel much like a hero. Sometimes it felt he left nothing but charred bodies in his wake. Maybe one day he’d become one of those bodies. He hoped so. Divine justice. Truth knows he deserves it.

“Colonel…” What could she say? She was one of the people who called him useless. Now that she thought about it, many people did. It was a jab, a joke to poke at their ever serious captain, at least that's what everyone took it as. He was the flame alchemist, the only one of his kind. Couldn’t let him get a big head. Or that's what they said. In Hawkeye’s opinion that was as far from the truth as they could get. Roy was so loyal and so kind when he wanted to be...yet his self-worth was in the dirt. He may act cocky but Hawkeye had known him since they were practically children. She knew him better than anyone, except maybe Hughes. He couldn’t hide anything from her. He felt so much guilt, sometimes it felt like he had the world on his shoulders and all she could do was support him from the sidelines and pray that his legs would never give out from under him, or worse, he would purposely let the weight crush him because she may have been his sun and moon but Hughes had been his everything. What was she compared to that?

She wasn’t enough. The thought tore at her heart, it made her want to sit down and give into the darkness that always haunted her. After all, she too was a soldier. She had her own demons. And they scared her. She was a soldier, yes but not a normal one. She was a sniper. She wasn’t an average soldier firing wildly into smoke and dust, praying she hit someone before they hit her. She watched from above, cold and calculating. Every bullet was sure to hit. She could never decide what was worse, the faces she did remember or the faces she forgot. But this wasn’t the time to dwell on it, it never was. If she gave in then Roy would continue to blame himself and she would truly lose him and not even she could bring him back. After all, what was one sniper to God, to the world, to Truth? For now, there was little she could do besides push her demons away and stand by his side, right where she belonged. The helplessness terrified her.

“It’s alright Lieutenant. Go to lunch. I’ll be fine…I just need some time.” The next thing she knew she was in the hallway, walking to the lunchroom on autopilot. An irrational wave of panic overcame her as she thought of her commander sitting alone in the dark. She forced the thought away. He would be fine. She’d be there for him. She had to, both for herself and for Hughes because as much as her demons scared her, they were nothing compared to the terror Roy’s demons inspired.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It got worse

It was later in the evening when an uneasiness settled in her chest and refused to let go. Danger. Something was happening. She quickly scanned the area. All her instincts screamed at her to get to higher ground. Nothing was there, so why exactly did she feel so unsettled? Maybe she was just being paranoid, the news of Mustangs sudden sobriety had her nervous. Maybe she should go check on him? Pushing her doubts away she turned around and rushed towards Roy’s house. She was about to knock on the door when she hesitated. Would this be too far? Was she stepping over some unnamed boundary? Yes, she and Roy had known each other for a long time and yes she was practically his keeper but this had never been her job. Checking in on Roy, that was Hughes job. That is what he was good at. Who was she to try and intrude, especially with Roy still grieving? A loud crash interrupted her thought process and answered the question for her. Gun in hand, she kicked open the door and rushed in, only to freeze.

“Colonel…” Dark eyes stared back at her, hollow and empty, glistening with tears he was too stubborn to shed. He was on the floor, spilled booze surrounding him. Shattered glass lay scattered while Roy’s hand bled Scarlett through his pristine white gloves. It must have been the crash she heard. But that’s not what scared her. No, what scared her was the gun gripped tightly between two shaking hands.

“I-I’m-“ The words that left his mouth were slow and slurred. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He didn’t mean to break his promise. It was just…Useless. So useless. His everything has just died and he couldn’t keep one stupid promise to him? A burden. Nothing but a useless burden. Didn’t deserve to live. Waste of space. Shouldn’t burden his team, his Hawk’s eyes. He had taken out his gun. He should have burned. He wanted to burn. He was too cowardly to burn.“ _DAMMIT_!” Before he had known what he was doing his fist slammed into the glass bottles on his kitchen table and they were gone, empty, broke, couldn’t get back together again. He had sunk to the ground. He faintly heard the sound of his door smashing open, in the corner of his eyes he saw his lieutenant standing frozen in his doorway.

“Get up.” Her order would have sounded harsh if not for the faint trembling. He mindlessly obeyed. It was all he could do.

“R-Riza I-I’m so-“ She shot him a silencing glare. It worked.

“Gun. Give it to me” Without thinking he backed away, gun hugged to his chest like a small child with a toy. He shook his head. Previously, while Hawkeye may have looked emotionless to the untrained eye, Roy could easily see that her body language was tinged with nervousness. Now that nervousness was gone. She stalked confidently over to him and plucked the gun from his weak grasp. “Gloves” Fear gripped his heart, and his brain frantically tried to figure out a way out of this, despite knowing Hawkeye would never even consider hurting him, at least not intentionally. Her gaze softened slightly. “Trust me to protect you alright?” His pride officially in shambles he handed his gloves over. He internally scolded himself. You just tried to kill yourself why the fuck do you care about safety? And this is Hawkeye, after all the shit she’s done for us she deserves our trust, stop being so useless. A faint whimper escaped his lips. He didn’t want to be a burden yet here he was.

“Useless…” the words were whispered, if Hawkeye hadn’t been right next to Roy, leading him to the couch she wouldn’t have heard.

“Sir?” She sat him down and he seemed to try and make himself as small as possible, head bowed and curled into himself like a wounded animal. His hands were gripped tightly together which wouldn’t have bothered her except she was fairly sure there were glass shards embedded in the flesh and she was the one who had to dig around for them. “Mustang, I need to grab a first aid kid alright? Stay here.” She hurried to the bathroom where she knew he kept supplies and rushed back in record time. He had mostly obeyed her, though his hands were now gripped tightly in his hair and he was muttering. Her heart seemed to skip a beat when she got close enough to listen. He was apologizing. Apologizing for the lives he took and the people he couldn’t save and the burden he placed on others and how Goddamn useless he was. A few names came up. Ed- he actually called him by name instead of just saying Fullmetal, Madame Christmas, Hughes of course and...her name? She knew he felt guilt over her entering the military but to carry around this level of guilt for so long? Truth knows how he was still standing.

“You should trust me more Mustang” his grip on his hair loosened a bit and he looked up at her with those unnaturally bright eyes. The idiot didn’t know when to let go. “Not just with your Safety sir. Trust me to stay by your side. I would die to protect you, I would travel to hell and back” He shook his head venomously.

“You shouldn’t have to. Not for someone like me. You’ll just end up another charred body to add to my list of sins”

“Then trust me to stay alive and by your side. I won’t go down easy. After all, who would remind you to do your paperwork if I was gone?” The fact that if she didn’t come back, neither would he, remained unspoken.

“I’m sorry…” She gently took his hand and inspected it for glass.

“Unless you are apologizing for almost leaving me here alone then I don’t want to hear it.” Roy lowered his head in shame and they sat in silence, Hawkeye diligently searching for and pulling little shards of glass out, and him unmoving beside little flinches when a shard happened to be particularly deep. It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was more content than anything. They had said their pieces. To anyone else, it might not have looked like much but neither were really the type to bare their feelings for the world. For them, this was enough. This was all they needed. When the glass was all gone and his hand was bandaged Hawkeye proceeded to stand up and head towards the door.

“Lieutenant?” She looked back at him briefly. She could practically see him readying himself for rejection.

“Lay down. I’m going to clean up the kitchen.” He looked mildly surprised and a bit guilty.

“Oh. Sorry”

“Don’t worry about it” She turned back to the kitchen and sighed at the mess once she was out of Roy’s view. She removed her uniform jacket (it looked like she might be here for awhile and she didn’t need it to reek of alcohol) and got to work. It gave her time to think. This whole situation…what was she supposed to do? She wasn’t Hughes. She couldn’t be him. She didn’t want to be. The three of them, Hughes, Roy, and herself. They had been a team, even if she wasn’t as close with Hughes, it didn’t matter. Roy was the glue that kept them together. The brave leader. She was the moon, always watching over, silent and seemingly cold yet always reliable and when needed, would always be there. Hughes had been the sun, bright and beautiful and the only reason they returned back home sane after what they did. They needed the sun. They were lost without it. Roy looked…he looked like he did during the war. He was dead again. Her mind unconsciously flipped to that memory in the tent. Roy had been a mess and once again she hadn’t known what to do. It was Hughes who snapped him out if it. She’d always remember his words. He said…they were dead. All of them. As soon as they stepped onto that damn battlefield and into the war they died. They had needed to to survive. His face had looked so tired, so old despite being in his 20s. They were dead and they would stay dead until they left this God forsaken desert and even then, coming back to life wasn’t a guarantee. To come back…it would take love, and trust, and time, and a willingness to fight and even then it might not happen. For Hughes it was simple. He had his wife. She was his everything. She was his soul. As long as she was around he could come back from anything life threw his way. It was rather sweet. Too bad Hawkeye and Mustang didn’t have that special someone. Hughes had scoffed at that and asked what was wrong with each other. Hawkeye chose to ignore that and Roy had gone red and sputtered something about idiots. They never did find that someone,  that reason to bother trying to come back to life. It was too painful. And so they just existed, for years, stuck in that limbo where their bodies may have walked the earth but that spark for life, their soul remained stubbornly dead and gone. It had gotten a bit better over the years but slightly less dead is still pretty dead. Maybe dead wasn’t the right word anymore? More like comatose. Philosophy aside, she had taken long enough. The kitchen was back to its former glory.

Upon returning to the living room she bit back the mild annoyance that rose in her when she saw that he was still sitting up, staring into the void. “I thought I told you to lay down?

“I-I can’t…” She raised an eyebrow. Shame flooded his cheeks. “D-defenseless…” Shit. She should have known, she was a soldier after all. On the battlefield, a little paranoia helped save lives but here at home? It could be a nuisance at best and debilitating at worst. She was lucky she and Roy had jobs where that paranoia was warranted and typically not minded. Other soldiers weren’t so lucky.

“Then let me stand guard.” Blank eyes met hers for a moment before pulling away.

"If you're sure...I don't want to keep you if you have somewhere else to be" 

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't sincere sir"

“Well, Thanks…” She almost headed to the chair she usually sat in when visiting but after a moment, thought against it. Roy looked up at her in surprise when she sat next to him on the couch but accepted it quickly. It wasn’t something she usually did. She cared for him, and he for her, but it was never something they showed through physical touch or closeness. That was Hughes thing. She wasn’t Hughes and she couldn’t replace him but maybe, in this moment he wouldn’t mind her borrowing some of his methods.

“Go to sleep” She watched as he lay down on the other side of the couch, curled up tight so he wouldn’t bother or touch her. With his trusted Lieutenant on guard it didn’t take him long to fall asleep but staying asleep was a different story. About an hour later Roy started moving around. Soon after he started making small noises of distress and it was then that she stepped in.

“Roy? Roy, wake up it's a nightmare. COLONEL MUSTANG” At the sound of his title Roy shot up, eyes wild and hands reaching for gloves he didn’t have. It didn’t help his panic. “Roy, look at me” Terror filled eyes met hers. “It’s alright” She slowly reached out a hand and when he didn’t react, placed it on his shoulder. “You’re at home. The war is over. We’re all safe” Mustang’s searched her face for any sign of lies and once he felt certain she was telling the truth, allowed himself to collapse on her shoulder. Riza froze, her boss normally never would have done this. Neither would she. Oh well. Maybe Maes Hughes was right, they needed to let go every once in a while. She shifted so they both lay on the couch, Roy between her legs, head against her chest. Hands gripped at the fabric of her shirt and she ignored the growing wet spot. Roy’s pride would normally have never let him break down in front of her and she wasn’t going to do anything to deter him. Good thing she had removed the jacket though, it probably wouldn’t have been the most comfortable.

“You’re aren’t useless sir.”

“Riza?”

“Go back to sleep” It was then Roy seemed to notice the position they were in and blushed, trying to push himself away. “It’s fine. Just go back to sleep okay?” He opened his mouth to protest but it seemed exhaustion won out and he collapsed back into her arms. He muttered a sleepy “sorry” and was soon fast asleep. Hawkeye herself kept vigil for hours, and on into the night. She refused to betray her colonel's trust so soon. She passed the time reminiscing about old times and old wounds. Maybe it was about time they let those wounds heal and disappear. Some may scar, true, but at the end of the day as long as they had the other they would be fine. Maybe not quite alive, not yet, but eventually. It would take love, and trust, and time, and a willingness to fight but for Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang, this was hardly a sacrifice. Not compared to everything else they’ve given. Even after all this time, Maes Hughes was still their pillar, their strength. They liked to think wherever he was, he was proud of them. They would get their souls back, not just for their fallen friend, but for themselves. After all, nothing is worth the price of a human soul.


End file.
